Today we had the first proper day of spring in a very early spring this year (Of course it wasn’t the REAL first day of spring – that comes on the 21st of March this year with the spring equinox). The weather was lovely and so I went for a run. The third time this year, and while I normally get outrun by at least two thirds of the runners on my usual running course (and lapped once to twice by my boyfriend on the 2km sprint route that’s part of it), I was the undisputed queen of the road today. For most of the road. It seemed as if all those people who normally wouldn’t lift a leg or finger had all of a sudden decided to change their lives and do some sports. Most of them were not even running anymore when I passed them, but the trainers and shell suit gave them away. My boyfriend was ill and therefore couldn’t come running (which probably contributed to boosting my selfesteem;-) but followed a little later on the bike to catch a bit of sunlight, too.

The running course follows a river, in which we found the base of a vacuum cleaner that had gotten stuck between the rocks. I managed to free “Topfi” (literally ‘Potty’, as we decided to call the vehicle) and followed it a good stretch down the river until it eventually got stuck again, at a spot where we couldn’t reach it. Up to that point, Topfi had been the perfect vehicle and quick as silver in the current. We forgot to take another picture, but hope that the river is going to take him to pastures new one day. FREE TOPFI!

And now we move on to a very special picture. It is on the on hand an illustration of unattainable love, and on the other hand the story of two star-crossed lovers: Lady Black from the Golden Palace and Mr. Cool, the internationally renowned miniature golfer, both trapped in their respective snow globes.

But at least they have got each other to look at now, which is much better than being the only person trapped in a snow globe.

Thanks to Florian and the Korea crowd for helping to introduce the two to each other!

Unfortunately, Lady Black is a bit of a drinker, which is why she will soon be in it (perfume, not water) just up to her neck, but I am sure we will find a solution for that.

Today I propose a combined Lent & Life post in which I declare Helge Schneider the perfect composer and performer of Lent music. Those who keep regular contact to the German language sphere will certainly know his hit single “Möhrchen” (Little Carrot) from 2003. In this song, he proposes to abstain from drugs and to have carrots instead, using the following memorable lines:

I also love the video, for its low budget production and Helge’s acting:

The Lenten lifestyle is further propagated in his latest hit, Käsebrot (cheese sandwich), featuring a German Käsebrot, which has very little to do with a cheese sandwich actually, even though that is probably the best translation. Just like bread from the UK or US has very little to do with German bread. That’s one good thing about being German: We may not have humour, but definitely absolutely the best bread ever. Some lyrics to accompany the video (and no meat, sugar or alcohol in these either):

I’m not so sure whether Helge Schneider is also the suitable ambassador to propagate German humour, but I cherish the idea that he is something like a weirder Weird Al Yankovich. Anyway, Helge is beyond argueing for me. Earlier this year, he played Hitler in Dani Levy’s Mein Führer: The Truly Truest Truth About Adolf Hitler which met with great expectations which it apparently didn’t meet (mainly for not being able to decide between a comic and a moralist approach). I did not see it, although my spontaneous reponse was that, if anybody could play Hitler, it would be Helge, the muttering comedian (think of Charlie Chaplin’s gibberish when he played Adenoid Hynkel in The Great Dictator). Helge also has the reputation of a top notch musician, playing the piano, saxophon, vibraphone, accordion, guitar, bass, violin, ukulele, recorder, drums, trumpet, Hammond organ, church organ and cello (and probably more. he keeps adding). I guess that also doesn’t quite come across in the examples of music above.

Thursday, February 15, Weiberfastnacht, i.e. the day before Shrove Tuesday in Cologne. People agreed that Saint Peter must be from Cologne as we were blessed with the finest weather in years: Dä Petrus is ne Kölsche! I was a bee, and my boyfriend the cutest meadow ever. Later on, we danced Polonaise* in the backyard of a friend’s house. It did not matter that the sun did not reach us there: we had the sunshine in our heart.**

*) a stately Polish processional dance popular in 19th century Europe, according to Merriam-Webster

The heart of the world, yes, that is Cologne.
The heart of the world beats on the river Rhine.
May the heaven often be grey and the sun shine a bit dull,
but we Colonians have the sunshine in our heart.

A private literature evening drew my attention to the poetry of Ernst Herbeck, an Austrian (1920-1991) who suffered from schizophrenia and was being cared for four 40 years in Gugging, a mental institution in lower Austria. The psychiatrist Leo Navratil, in order to establish a connection to the very withdrawn Herbeck, began to set him creative tasks, and it was the area of poetry in which he excelled, although he never read any poetry himself after he had left school at 15. Here is an interview with Navratil (1921-2006) (yes, it’s English) which was also the source for the image on the right. Shocking: There is no Wikipedia entry on Herbeck, neither in German or English!

I’d like to post two poems here which I’ve posted before at the Cerebral Jetsam blog. They are taken from the last collection of Herbeck’s work, published in 1994 and edited and prefaced by Navratil, Im Herbst da reiht der Feenwind. Gesammelte Texte, published by Residenzverlag, Salzburg. Get it while it’s still available – none of Herbeck’s book was an overwhelming sales success, but sooner or later, they were all sold out.

The men have a strong heart.
They ride in society.
They are guiding themselves. They fall in love the most deeply. They repel life. They have a strong beard, too. The men are tired. They prefer to shave with a Philishave 3m. The men have no enemy.

The women.

The women, they are pretty. The women have good ears, and a 20/20 vision. The women aren’t that stupid. The women get themselves worked up. The women delight in any little thing. They are more charming. And they rile themselves more than men.
The women don’t rush things, they work.

To me, the writing of Herbeck’s is strikingly (sometimes painfully) lucid. I think I need to get the memoirs of Daniel Paul Schreber too, as recommended by Jetsam.